


Cuz This Is A Disastuh

by comically_so (knobblyfruit), knobblyfruit



Category: Pundit RPF, Pundit RPF (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-07
Updated: 2010-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-18 00:36:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/183066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knobblyfruit/pseuds/comically_so, https://archiveofourown.org/users/knobblyfruit/pseuds/knobblyfruit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CRACK. Anderson mysteriously loses his iPod and Keith has a secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cuz This Is A Disastuh

**Author's Note:**

> Should I warn for Lady Gaga lyrics? Well, I am. I have no excuse for this. I can't even blame Keith for talking about Gaga on his show, even though that's what started this. The title is from "Telephone" specifically, but it was also inspired by [this Star Trek macro](http://pics.livejournal.com/comically_so/pic/0006gww1). (Because it's apparently my goal to link Star Trek to everything.)

Anderson was vaguely suspicious when he couldn't find his iPod one morning. He knew he'd had it when he came home the night before, and he was sure he'd set it on the kitchen counter before wandering into the bedroom to crash.

Well, fairly sure.

Pretty sure.

Okay, so he wasn't positive. He had been exhausted by the time he stumbled into the apartment. His mind had been on nothing but taking the suit off, climbing into bed, and wrapping himself around Keith.

He found it mildly annoying that he could remember how he'd smiled when Keith automatically shifted in his sleep to make room for him in the space between his arms, but he couldn't remember where he'd left his damn iPod.

After checking the living room and bedroom without seeing it, he started having doubts that he'd had it when he'd gotten home to begin with. Maybe he'd left it at his office. But he could have sworn he'd listened to it on the subway last night...

Whatever. He was already running late. With a frustrated sigh, he made sure he at least had his Blackberry, gave Molly an ear scratch good-bye, and left.

*******

Two days later, he still hadn't found his iPod. He'd looked in his office, in the studio, asked all of his co-workers if they'd seen it, talked to security, practically tore his apartment apart, bugged Keith about it so much he'd finally threatened to withhold sex if he didn't stop, and even checked the subway on the off chance that someone would turn in a found iPod instead of keeping it for themselves.

Needless to say, a music-less Anderson was a cranky Anderson. Some people drank coffee; Anderson listened to music. It woke him up and helped him focus. It distracted him and soothed him when he got too frustrated. It reminded him of better things when he fell into a giant pit of despair. It kept him from being overdramatic.

On the fourth day, after being asked if he'd seen the precious iPod four times, his producer finally snapped. "Why don't you just get a new one? Aren't all the songs still on your computer?"

Anderson must have looked scandalized because Charlie rolled his eyes. "Are you punishing yourself again? Like when you lost your watch and refused to buy another for the longest time? 'Cause I gotta say, I feel like the people around you are suffering for this more than you are."

"It's not just that," Anderson insisted. "That thing has been everywhere with me for the past two years. It's got sentimental value." He paused, chewing on his lower lip. "Am I really being that annoying?"

Charlie reached out to pat Anderson's shoulder, his voice softening. "I think you can trust people to let you know if it turns up." He smiled reassuringly.

Anderson sighed. "Yeah, all right. Sorry."

With that, Charlie moved on. "Okay, about today's interview..."

*******

The next day was a Saturday, and Anderson had to cut his gym time short because he wasn't quite as motivated without his usual playlist. Not to mention people tended to approach him more often without the earbuds in, and that just wouldn't do. He finally resolved to get a new iPod that weekend. He shrugged to himself as he unlocked the apartment door. The other one could still turn up.

He softly clicked the door shut behind him and set his gym bag on the floor. He saw Keith at the table, so absorbed in the papers he was reading and listening to his iPod that it seemed he hadn't noticed Anderson had returned. He grinned when he realized Keith was bobbing his head along with the music and, yes, singing along... to Lady Gaga? "I love this record, baby, but I can't see straight anymore..."

Woah. Wait. Back up.

Since when did Keith have an iPod?

Anderson's brow furrowed in confusion for just a moment as he contemplated the black device, then his mouth dropped open in shock. "YOU!" he shouted in the most indignant way he knew how, complete with finger-pointing.

If he'd been in a slightly better mood, he might have appreciated how Keith jumped at least several inches at Anderson's exclamation, scattering a few papers to the floor. "Andy! You're --" Then his eyes widened almost comically as he realized he'd been caught red-handed.

"You stole my iPod?!" Anderson damn near shrieked. "I've been looking everywhere for it! You know I have! You are such a jackass!"

"I, uh --" Keith at least had the decency to look ashamed as he removed the earbuds.

Anderson's eyes narrowed into a glare as he practically stomped to the table and grabbed the iPod. "You even threatened to withhold sex if I didn't shut up about it," he said accusingly. "You are so full of shit. I'm never falling for your bluffs again, you _douchenozzle_."

Keith frowned. "Douchenozzle? What the hell--"

"Shut up! You could have just got your own, you know, instead of _lying_ and _stealing_. And to think," he continued his rant, gesticulating wildly and waving the iPod around. "I thought you were just being ridiculously, _stupidly_ cute, sitting there singing along to Lady Gaga, of all fucking things, and --" He suddenly froze, hands in mid-air as realization dawned on him. He slowly lowered his arms as an evil grin spread across his face.

"What?" Keith asked suspiciously.

"It's Lady Gaga, isn't it?" His grin became nearly Grinch-like.

The closed-off look on Keith face was answer enough. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do!" Anderson crowed with glee. "You didn't want the iPod itself - you wanted the Lady Gaga songs on it!" It was like he was five years old and Christmas had come early.

"Andy --" Keith started, but Anderson quickly cut him off again.

"Oh, no! You are _not_ getting out of this one. I really should have expected this after your show last week. You could have saved yourself a lifetime's worth of mocking by just buying your own, but noooo... you had to do it the hard way. You have earned this, my friend." Anderson laughed, briefly considering renting out a billboard in Times Square for ultimate humiliation. For now, though... "I'm going to call Rachel."

Still snickering, he turned towards the bedroom to put his iPod where he _knows_ he can find it again. Then he whipped his Blackberry out of his pocket and searched up Rachel's number. He was so engrossed in his task when he walked back into the hall that he didn't notice Keith at all until he grabbed his wrist before he could hit the 'send' button.

"What are you --" But before Anderson could finish, Keith spun him around and shoved him against the wall, holding the wrist holding the Blackberry above Anderson's head with one hand. Using the element of surprise and Anderson's breathlessness as his weapons, Keith plucked the Blackberry from Anderson's loose fingers with his other hand and shoved it in his back pocket.

"Keith, what the fuck?" Anderson struggled in Keith's grip. "Give me my phone!"

Keith just grinned the kind of grin that always suggested that sex was in Anderson's immediate future.

Before Anderson could react properly, Keith's mouth was on his. Anderson gasped into the kiss, but automatically fell into it. Two years of habit was hard to break at the last second. Kissing Keith was like falling off a cliff - you couldn't really stop yourself once you started.

And Keith knew exactly how to turn Anderson into mush just by using his tongue, knew how nipping Anderson's bottom lip would make him whimper. But he wasn't gonna let Keith completely win this one. He set his free hand on the back of Keith's neck and pulled him closer in an effort to regain the upper hand. The kiss became more of a bruising fight for dominance, and Anderson was well rewarded when Keith finally pulled back, lips swollen and breathing heavily.

Of course, he wasn't in much better shape himself.

"What-- what was that for?" Anderson asked as he struggled to remember why he'd been upset with Keith in the first place.

Keith smirked, let go of Anderson's hand, and leaned closer to speak low and rough in Anderson's ear. "I'm on a mission, and it involves some heavy touching, yeah."

Anderson had closed his eyes and did his best to hold back a moan at that voice, but once he realized what Keith actually said, his eyes flew open in disbelief. "Keith, you did _not_ just -- aughh." He was cut off by Keith pressing a trail of kisses to his neck. "-- quote Lady Gaga lyrics at me."

Keith merely gave a low chuckle that Anderson could feel. "Sorry, I cannot hear you; I'm kinda busy..." And before Anderson could object to _that_ , he pushed a leg between Anderson's thighs, right up against his half-hard cock.

Anderson moaned, but managed to keep himself from thrusting against Keith's leg and finishing it right there. "I hate you," he said breathlessly. "Goddammit, let me go." But that was mostly an afterthought to keep up appearances, and he really thought if Keith stopped he'd kill him.

And Keith knew it, the bastard. "Promise I'll be kind, but I won't stop until that boy is mine." He dragged his fingers across the crotch of Anderson's gym pants.

The light touch seemed to be enough to set every one of Anderson's nerves on fire and he bucked into Keith's leg. "Why are you such a fucking _tease_?" he asked with a gasp.

Really, he should have expected it by now. Keith leaned in for a quick hard kiss and when he pulled back, he practically growled, "Baby, when it's love, if it's not rough, it isn't fun."

Anderson wanted to tell Keith he wasn't making any sense, but that's when Keith tugged Anderson's pants and boxers down just enough to ease his now fully erect cock out and wrap his fingers loosely around it. Anderson thumped his head against the wall. "Fuck," he said to the ceiling.

He couldn't see it, but he could hear the grin in Keith's voice as he said, "I wanna hold 'em like they do in Texas, please."

And that was the last straw. "Wish you could shut your playboy mouth," Anderson muttered. He gripped the back of Keith's head with both hands and pulled him forward so their mouths were millimeters apart. "Move your damn hand _now_." He pressed his lips to Keith's at the same moment Keith's grip on his cock tightened considerably. He moaned into Keith's mouth as he swiped a thumb over the head.

Somewhere in the haze of arousal, Anderson realized this was far too one-sided. He pushed Keith's shirt up to press his hand against warm skin, as Keith dragged his tongue down Anderson's neck.

"You know that I want you, you know that I need you..." Keith whispered against Anderson's shoulder. He pumped his fist faster, the pre-come helping to smooth the way.

Anderson groaned and, absolutely refusing to lose this one, he pressed his other hand against the bulge in Keith's jeans.

Keith let out a strangled gasp as his eyes fluttered shut. He squeezed Anderson's dick and thrust up against Anderson's hand, and Anderson had just enough time to think that Keith was finally done quoting Lady fucking Gaga before the tension coiled low in his belly exploded. "Fuck, Keith!" he shouted as he came all over both of their shirts.

There was a minute of silence while they caught their breath, and Anderson abruptly realized the crotch of Keith's jeans was damp. With a loud sigh, he dropped his head to Keith's shoulder and his arms to his sides.

After a moment, Keith gently tucked Anderson back into his pants and lowered them both to the floor. They sat next to each other, leaning bonelessly against the wall.

Anderson laughed weakly. "So who won that one, exactly?"

Keith rolled his eyes. "Well, considering I'm the one who ruined some perfectly good jeans..." He half-heartedly swatted Anderson's leg. "You owe me a new pair, by the way."

"Fuck you, I wouldn't have had to do it if you didn't try seducing me in the middle of the hallway with Lady Gaga lyrics!"

"I was trying to distract you!"

Anderson frowned, trying to remember how all this started in the first place. "From calling Rachel?"

"Yes!"

"My god, you are pathetic," he said with a chuckle. He looked over at Keith, who was staring at the opposite wall. Anderson would almost say he was pouting. He sighed, feeling his resolve break down. He was stupidly pliant after a handjob. "I'll make you a deal."

Keith looked at him suspiciously. "What?"

"I won't tell Rachel, if you swear you'll never, ever say the words 'disco stick.'"

A grin spread across Keith's face. "You've got a deal." He held out his hand to shake on it.

So Anderson took it.

After all, he didn't say anything about telling anyone else.

END.


End file.
